


Surprise, Surprise

by fiercy, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Superman RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercy/pseuds/fiercy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG <a href="http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read">Citadel</a>. If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed <a href="http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Surprise, Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read). If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed [here](http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1).

It's been a long week. A hugely hellish long week. Work's been fine but between last weekend and talking to Henry on the phone and making plans for camping tomorrow - not to mention the other man haunting his sleep every night - Chris has had it. He has the car take him straight to Citadel and orders up his usual three-stripe sub in a fully-equipped room, thank you, and doesn't even bother stopping at the bar. Keycard in hand, he takes the elevator to the third floor and heads down the hallway, his step determined, daring anyone to get in his way.

Never has a pre-prod kicked his ass as thoroughly as this one is. Filming is still six weeks away and _Man of Steel_ has him busier than he can ever remember being, his week full of fittings, pre-interviews, chemistry reads and two--count them _two_ whirlwind trips back and forth to Illinois.

Work with his trainer has started, as well, but the fact that Henry can still move easily five days in, with nothing but the slightest twinge of muscle when he stretches, means he's going to have to ditch the studio's idea of harsh and go with his own. He's got to work harder. Especially if he's going to sleep through the dreams of Chris that have been taunting him since last weekend.

Until he can set that up, though--with a Citadel personal trainer who will kick his ass properly--he's here. At Citadel. Because he's stupid enough to have planned that camping trip with Chris tomorrow and having a session tonight is the only way chance he'll ever get through it without giving himself away.

He's turning the corner from the stairs onto the third floor when the familiar heat hits him low in the gut. Henry had booked the toughest of his five usual house doms tonight and delicious dread has him almost trembling with anticipation.

A dark head appears at the end of the hall and Chris glances away, double-checking room numbers, before something makes him look back. Fuck. That dark head looks familiar, really familiar, but it's probably just his imagination. His overwhelming desire. Until the man looks up and there's no doubt left at all. It's Henry.

There he goes, deer in the headlights again. It's becoming a standard expression since meeting Chris. Chris . . . the Chris standing just a few feet from him. In the Citadel hallway. Holding a Citadel key. About to . . . Christ. Chris.

Henry has no idea--at all--what to do next.

"Hey," Chris says finally, uncomfortably, his heart beating a mile a minute. "Fancy meeting you here," he adds, reaching, unable to do anything but make light of it. His brain still working through what it means that Henry is here, at Citadel, obviously on his way to a room.

"Hey," Henry manages to get out except--wait--was that him? His voice. _Squeaking!?_ "Hi, I'm here . . . it's . . . there's . . . just . . . it might be . . . just what it looks like," he finally says, volume trailing off.

And then, suddenly, Henry grins. His body still on full alert fight-or-flight, he grins just the same. "Oh my God. Oh my _God_ and all this time and I've been so careful and you were . . ." _Wait, Henry, you're getting way ahead of yourself._

"Making an ass out of myself," Chris says with a small smile, thinking of the massage and the blanket and Henry's reaction. "What are you here for?" he asks bluntly. 

Henry blushes as his mind travels back to their last evening together. To his hands on Chris's warm, supple skin covering lean, strong muscle. Should he just get it out? Get it over with? What's he protecting now?

His heart is pounding in his ears when he answers; so hard he can barely hear himself. "In there," he murmurs unnecessarily, waving toward the door to his room, "a dom." He forgets, for a moment, that dom and domme sound the same and so he's told only part of the story.

That answers part of the equation. "D-o-m or d-o-m-m-e?" Chris asks, holding his breath for the answer.

Henry blushes deeper, biting his lip for a moment, his eyes begging Chris not to judge him, not that he won't recover and call him an asshole if he does. "D-o-m," he finally says firmly.

Cock already starting to fill at the images that puts in his mind, Chris nods. "So we _have_ been reacting to each other," he says simply.

Henry answers his question with a single, slow nod of his own. Not only have they been reacting to each other, but Henry is quite sure he's been reacting to Chris's natural dominance. "What are you here for?" His question is the same if a little more tentatively given.

"Three-stripe sub, male," Chris responds, moving a little closer, nodding over Henry's shoulder and down the hall. It's been so long since he admitted that to anyone besides the concierge desk.

 _This changes nothing, Cavill. No one but Citadel doms. No one. Ever._ Henry can tell himself that as long as he likes. It's not working. Not with Chris moving closer, looming over him like a giant source of takes-what-he-wants power. He nods again, licking his lips. "Well, we could have saved some misunderstandings, yeah?" he says with a nervous, awkward chuckle.

Every nerve, every instinct, is thrumming through Henry and--God help him--he's trying to stay off his knees right now.

"Yeah." Chris nods. "Come with me," he says, gesturing at Henry to follow him. Taking it for granted he will. He slides his keycard through the reader to his room and opens the door, utterly uninterested in the very pretty boy on his knees on the other side. "You, up."

The boy rises to his feet.

"I won't be needing you this evening, but I'll make sure to leave you something at the front desk later. I want you to go to room... what's your room number?" he asks Henry.

Henry had followed; of course he had, though all his carefully preserved walls are vibrating with the abrupt blow to their foundation. He stares at Chris for a moment when he asks, then startles, looks at the card in his hand and works to recall the number. "Three twelve," he finally chirps out, looking from Chris to the disappointed looking boy standing before them.

"Go to 312 and tell the in-house dom there the same thing," Chris orders. "Let him know he'll be compensated as well."

"Yes, sir," the boy says, quickly and carefully making his way out around them, Chris closing the door behind him.

"I assume you're okay with that?" Chris asks Henry.

Henry smiles slightly, a little crookedly. "Yes, sir," he answers, fully aware that his posture has straightened and his hands have slid behind his back and hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that Chris has noticed, too.

"I want you to give me your safeword and your hard limits," Chris orders. Really they should talk about what they've both been doing and why but Chris doesn't think there's enough blood left in his brain for that. It's all fled south, pretty much the moment he saw Henry in the hall.

Henry responds almost instantly this time, his training--as informal as it has been--kicking in. "My safeword is 'mercy.' My limits are kids, mutilation, snuff, necrophilia real or imagined, scat, small spaces and . . . um. . . medical play and anal intercourse." The last? It rolled off his tongue out of habit. With the house doms he's been with it _has_ been a hard limit.

Unfortunately, Henry's already on to the next step in his head and he hadn't heard what he'd said . . . so to speak.

Taken aback, Chris repeats the last one. "Anal intercourse?"

Henry blinks, the words thrown back at him with a lot more precision than he'd thrown them out. His blush is deep enough to turn his hair red, and he swallows hard. He's going to have to explain this now.

Oh. Shite.

"I . . . just with dick," Henry answers, and only then does he realize just how inadequate _that_ answer is. "I ... look, can we just . . . reboot?" He's thrumming with need, desire and testosterone, but this particular subject? It trumps all three.

"What do you mean?" Chris says. "If it's a hard limit, it's a hard limit. We'll work around it."

"Okay. It's a soft limit overall. It's a hard limit tonight." There. Henry takes a deep breath, centering himself. "Okay. So that's it. I'm not that much into fetish stuff, but there aren't really any limits there." He once again straightens his posture and takes a more submissive stance, though he's still on his feet.

Chris smiles. "I don't think I have the patience to get into anything too complicated tonight," he says, reaching out to place his hand in the centre of Henry's chest. Touching him freely for the first time.

And in that simple gesture all the tension, all the "business" and any final indecision just melts away. Henry's eyes slide closed, his body opens up, and he leans into that touch as if he'd been starving for it. Oh. That's right. He had been.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted you," Chris whispers, sliding that same hand up Henry's chest and around to the nape of his neck, grasping hard for a moment before he reels him in and kisses him, tongue plundering his mouth.

Chris is hitting too many bulletproof kinks to count, all in the few minutes they'd been out to each other. The kiss, though? It's so heady, hits him so low and deep and perfect, that Henry sways against Chris.

There's no question Henry will submit. That he'll give Chris anything he asks for within his limits. Any hesitation is erased with the first benediction delivered from Chris's lips.

Licking into Henry's mouth, Chris pulls back, nipping at his lower lip. "Undress for me," he breathes, his mind racing, his cock still aching, wanting to fuck Henry more than anything.

The small hurt coaxes a gasp out of Henry, and he nods in acknowledgment, hoping it will do until his breath comes back and he can form the proper words. Toeing out of his shoes, he raises his eyes to Chris as he slips his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pushes it over his head. "Yes, sir," he finally answers, folding his shirt haphazardly and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

Jeans are next, shaking fingers struggling with his button for a few seconds before finally loosening it and pulling his zipper down. His cock? It springs free almost immediately. 

Chris's breath catches hard at the sight, so long imagined. "Beautiful," he murmurs, running his hand, his fingers, over it lightly.

It's like lightening caressing his skin, the current carrying through, exploding in his stomach and flashing back through him again, showing itself as a small drop of come at the tip of his dick. Henry shudders hard, lost in sensation as his lips part and form Chris's name.

"Get rid of the jeans and then you can undress me," Chris says, the tension between them unlike anything he's ever felt before. But maybe that's just because he's breaking his code, because Henry's someone he's wanted since the moment he saw him, instead of someone provided, offered up by Citadel.

Henry's head is still spinning. This is big. This is _huge_. It's the first time since his eighteenth birthday he's been with anyone but a Citadel dom. Hell, it's the first time since boarding school . . . . But he doesn't have time to give into too much thought, and he does as he's told, stripping off his jeans and tossing them aside.

He has permission to touch, in a manner of speaking, and though he'd spent almost an hour massaging Chris a week ago, this is decidedly different. Stepping forward, he licks his lips as his palms start at Chris's chest and move downward until he can bunch his fingers in the fabric of his shirt near his waist. "Can I touch your skin?" he asks breathlessly.

Chris nods. "Yeah. You can touch me." 

The soft sound of gratitude that slips out is almost lost in the rustle of fabric as Henry pushes his shirt up, his hands finding warm, smooth flesh underneath. He groans, easing Chris's shirt off over his head and tossing it aside before immediately dropping to his knees. This is where he wants to be, anyway.

Sliding his hand over the arch of Chris's right foot, Henry licks his lips and looks up at him. "May I. Just a single brush of my lips?"

There goes Chris's breath again, catching hard in his throat. "Go ahead," he says when he's able, his cock so rigidly hard against the zipper of his jeans it actually hurts.

Henry's trembling so hard with arousal and anticipation now that he's sure that Chris must be able to see it. He bends at the waist, inhaling deeply of the smell of denim and leather, his cock a heavy, dripping weight between his legs. His lips touch the arch of Chris's boot first on the left, then on the right, as he slips his hand around the heel and begins to pull. It takes a moment to find just the right amount of force, but finally the boot gives way. He sets it aside and fights the urge to kiss the other again, pulling it off and lining it up precisely next to the first. "Thank you, sir," he murmurs, kneeling up, his hands moving to the button on Chris's jeans.

"Have you had training?" Chris asks. It's the first thing to come to mind given the skill with which Henry carries out his tasks. And then it hits him. Sir. It's not the first time Henry's said it, but he wasn't on his knees before and that, that right there, is one of the things that's played hardest in Chris's fantasies.

"Yes, sir," Henry answers, easing Chris's zipper down very carefully. "I've been a member here for ten years." When Chris's cock pops out, right there in front of his face, the heady scent of him filling his nostrils and setting off his want to taste, Henry can't help but groan.

 _Oh, fuck._ Chris nods and takes himself in hand, rubbing the head across Henry's lips. "You want that?"

Henry's heart trips over itself and resumes double-time. He dares peek up through his lashes him, the taste of Chris's own introductory drops smeared on his lips causing him to lick them, just barely missing the cock so tempting in front of him. "Yes, please. Yes, sir, I want that," he answers emphatically, his voice husky now.

"Go ahead then," Chris says, his voice equally husky. "Show me how much."

Henry moans again, his restraint gone now that he has permission to wrap his mouth around Chris's fucking enormous cock. That alone has him hard enough to cut glass. Actually doing it?

His cock jerks _hard_ against his belly when his lips close halfway down Chris's shaft. Sucking in harder, he moves to take more, his hand coming up to help. Though he's not quite there at the base, he makes up for the lack with enthusiasm.

"Oh, fuck," Chris groans, toes almost curling with pleasure as Henry takes him in. He slides his hands into that dark hair, gripping handfuls, rocking his hips just a little to make sure Henry takes as much as he can. "So good," he murmurs, one glance downward, at Henry's lips stretched around his shaft, and his cock pulses hard, almost finishing him right there and then, but he grits his teeth and holds Henry in place for a second until the urgency recedes. "Good boy. Keep going."

 _Good boy_. Henry's talked to other submissives about the words, about whether they send shock waves of pleasure that lead to incredible downward spirals or leave them cold. General consensus? The right person murmuring those words at just the right time can have cosmic results.

Like now.

Henry shudders so hard Chris slips from his mouth for a moment, but he recovers fast, redoubling his efforts. It's not easy. Chris is huge. But the best things in life--and this is _surely one of those_ \--usually aren't offered easily. He chokes in his effort to take more of Chris, but that doesn't stop him. If anything is has him harder still. 

"That's it," Chris murmurs. "Relax your throat for me," he orders, pushing slowly deeper, forcing Henry to take more, each fraction-of-an-inch hard fought for and won.

Never has a gentle coaxing gotten to him the way Chris's urgings are. Never has Henry tried harder to please. Shite, what he'd been missing, always subtly in charge by paying for it.

Henry shudders hard as he finally reaches crisp hair and fragrant skin, his face hot with the needed to breathe, tears streaming down his throat. He longs for air. He won't give in.

"Beautiful," Chris murmurs, staring down at Henry, at his cock lodged tight in the other man's throat. He rocks his hips, pushing it just that little bit deeper and groans, so close he's not sure he can hold out long enough to do everything he wants to do to Henry. "So good for me." Stunned and impressed that Henry's managed to take it all.

Henry is desperate. Desperate for breath, for Chris's come, for his own release, and desperate to maintain control. He's fighting the need to pull away to breathe with all that he has, each second of control won singularly, one by one. He whimpers, and then groans around Chris to let him know just how much he loves his terrible, wonderful fate.

"Oh, god," Chris murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded with pure pleasure. "I'm gonna come," he groans, not even willing to fight it anymore. His release a reward Henry's surely earned. He thrusts once, twice and again then shudders hard, his cock pulsing hotly, flooding Henry's throat.

Reward is just exactly right. Henry can't make a sound, can't move anything except the muscles of his throat as he swallows every drop with greedy determination. He can't catch much of a taste, not yet, Chris is buried too deep in his throat, but he'll savor the salty flavor afterward, he's certain. 

His free hand closing into a fist in the plush carpet beside him, Henry splays the fingers of the hand on Chris across his lower belly, feeling the contractions there with a proper amount of pride.

Chris holds Henry there, holds him tight against his groin until every last aftershock has rippled through him, every last drop been emptied. And then he finally eases his grip on Henry's hair, easing his cock from the other man's throat with a wet pop at the end. "On your feet," he orders.

It takes a few seconds. Henry's breath comes in with a long, loud, angry gasp and he coughs as the air rushes back into his lungs, dizziness threatening his equilibrium. As soon as he's able, though, as soon as he can struggle to his feet, he surges to a stand, his hands behind him as he sways drunkenly. "Yes, sir," he tries, though it comes out as a throat-tortured croak.

Chris takes one look at Henry, noting how unsteady he is and nods towards the bed. "Go lie down," he says. "On your back, hands at your side."

"Yes, sir," Henry answers again, this time with a little more volume, giving Chris a dopey but sincere smile and turning to go to the bed. Lying down he settles in, his hands at his side as ordered.

"Now, let's see," Chris murmurs, getting on the bed and prowling up the length of Henry's body, knees between his thighs. "What am I going to do with you?" His grin turning slightly wicked. Now that he's come, he could take _hours_ teasing Henry if he wanted. "It's only cock that's off-limits?" he clarifies.

Henry looks at him, his mind working hard and fast over that question. "I lift the limit," he says finally, giving him a lopsided smile. "Not that I'd have a problem with working up to it."

"I'm incredibly flattered you'd lift it," Chris says softly. "But I want us to talk more about why you had it in the first place before I take advantage. And I _don't_ want to do that right now," he adds, leaning forward to kiss Henry. "I have better things to do," he murmurs, eyes twinkling as he slowly kisses his way down Henry's chin and throat to his chest.

The wonder Henry feels at that keeps him still for just a few seconds, then he groans, spreads his legs wider and drops his head back to give him room. He almost protests not talking. His reason for holding out until now isn't a big deal, after all, and Chris's very presence trumps it. But Chris is calling the shots. 

"Fuck, you're killing me," Henry finally breathes out. He doesn't sound upset about it.

Chris chuckles. "Good." He licks over Henry's left nipple, teasing it to a rigid peak with his tongue before closing his lips around it, sucking hard.

Chris is an expert at drawing those hard, sustained shudders from Henry. He's proving it again with the attention to his nipple, his body both drawing back away from the intense pleasure, and arching up toward Chris. He gasps, then groans, then whimpers in turn, his hands closing into fists, nails cutting crescent moons into his palms.

Encouraged, Chris moves between nipples, licking and sucking and biting, hard and then harder, testing Henry's reactions, his response to pain and arousal.

Henry's pretty sure he's going to split apart and fly off into tiny pieces before Chris is done. Pain rockets through him with each new, more intense assault, and while his hands tighten impossibly in the covers, he arches, offering up his chest raises, silently begging for more. He's lost track of which whimpering, murmuring, gasping noises he's making and which are from Chris's mouth and hands, and if it weren't for how high he is--and how long he's been at this in his life--he'd be begging Chris to please do something about his cock, which he's sure has grown to twice its usual size. Finally, he can take no more without breaking down. "Please!" he begs, though he's not sure what he's begging for.

Chris just smiles and moves lower, mouth trailing a path from chest to belly to groin, hot breath ghosting over the tip of Henry's cock when he gets there.

Henry cries out softly at the barely there sensation, his face flushing as the sound echoes up and away from them only to be followed by a low, deep groan. His cock jerks, his hips jerk, and Henry longs to lift up on his elbows to watch, but he's trying--so fucking hard--to be good that he manages to keep his hands at his sides. Barely.

Grinning up at Henry, Chris flicks his tongue over the head, over the bead of liquid welled there. 

Maybe it's the fact that he's determined, come hell or high water, not to come--not yet--that the explosion of pleasure is so intense in his head. Maybe it's that he'd found just the right angle in that moment to watch what Chris is doing, and that grin, that self-satisfied, pleased-with-himself grin that makes Chris so fucking sexy is right there, just before his tongue slips out. Henry shouts out, then mewls in pleasure, actually _wiggling_ because he can't lie still.

Those sounds go straight to his cock, which struggles to get hard again, and Chris takes pity on Henry, closing his mouth around the head and sucking lightly.

Henry's been trying not to come, maybe even vaguely adding a "without permission" to the end of that statement. But Chris? He's cutting a wide swathe through any training in that area that Henry has asked for in the past--never extensive to begin with. "I'm... fuck, Chris . . . I'm gonna come!"

Chris lifts his chin, only to say, "Go ahead," before his mouth is firmly back around Henry's cock, sucking harder than ever.

 _Ohthankgod!_ Even that brief respite, however, had taken the edge off just a little bit. It takes a few more seconds before Chris's talent--and his mere presence--have Henry shooting to the back of his throat with a cry of release. The orgasm courses through Henry like a fast-moving stream, culminating in the arc of his body collapsing to the bed with a harsh groan of relief.

Chris swallows every last drop and then crawls back up Henry's body, dropping down beside him. "That was fun," he murmurs, a real sparkle in his eye, his tone making it clear that it was _so_ much more than just fun. 

Cracking open one eye, Henry turns his head to look at Chris. He can't help but respond to that mischievous smile, giving a soft laugh and turning fully toward him. "Passable fun, yeah." His own ear to ear grin belies his deadpan tone.

Putting a hand on Henry's hip, Chris tugs him in closer, kissing him softly. "I broke my code for you," he says when he finally draws back a little. 

Henry leans forward slightly as Chris pulls away, trying to maintain that kiss. The kiss. The kiss means more than the sex, but he won't admit that, yet. "Your code?" he asks quietly, shifting his body closer still. He can't get near enough despite the fact that he's hot, sweaty and spent.

"Only Citadel, only staff and never in public, not even at Citadel," Chris says, blowing out a breath. "And I guess we haven't really broken the last part, but the first two? If you'd taken me up on my 'kidding' at your house..." he gives a shrug that says he would've been powerless to stop himself.

Henry's staring now. He's aware he's staring but speaking of powerless to stop . . . Sitting up, crossing his legs, he runs a hand through his hair. "Only Citadel, only staff, and never in public, not even here. Me too. Since I was eighteen."

Chris is equally stunned. "Seriously?"

Henry nods. Slowly and definitively. "It's why that one soft limit. I didn't want to pay for my first time. Stupid, probably, considering what I've let them do to me . . . "

"No, I get that," Chris says, although the implication's still mind-blowing. Henry's never been _fucked_. "I can understand why you'd want to put that limit on things."

Okay, so Henry's blushing as if someone had just revealed his deepest, darkest fantasy to the Enquirer, but he ignores that. "It's not . . . I don't think of it like losing my virginity or anything, you know?" he's quick to assure him. "I just . . . I'd messed around a lot in boarding school, but never that, and when I got into Citadel it just seemed like the thing to do."

Chris nods. "You might not think of it that way," he says with a grin. 'But I might find it hard not to, you know, if and when..."

Henry rolls his eyes. "Defiler," he says with a grin. "So . . . you wanted me to take you up on the teasing last week? It was all I could do not to give myself away. I've never, since I started this, had trouble resisting."

"It's probably better you didn't. I was drunk and I wasn't really thinking clearly," Chris says. "Is that why you reacted the way you did? Because you were scared of giving yourself away?"

Henry nods, his expression rueful. "That, and I was just really shocked. I was so sure you were a strapping big straight boy. My gaydar? Fired."

Chris laughs. "Mine too," he says. "I kept going back and forth. One minute I was sure you were and the next I figured it was all just my imagination, or better yet, wishful thinking."

"Yes! Wishful thinking is exactly it! And then there was . . . what do you call it? The code? Even if you were, I wasn't supposed to do anything about it," Henry enthuses, finally dropping back down on his side next to Chris. "I'm glad I ran into you tonight."

"Me too." Chris smiles, tugging Henry closer again. "This'll make it a lot easier to go camping tomorrow."

A fantasy (involving tent stakes, a whittled branch and a lot of screaming) so filthy Henry blushes until he's glowing has him nodding, but ducking his head into Chris's neck. "Yep," is all he can manage. _Christ you feel good._

Are you tired?" Chris asks. He wants them to talk more but it doesn't have to be this moment. He doesn't think Henry's going anywhere.

"No," Henry says, his smile widening, shaking his head in complement. "I've got all sorts of energy." His head is spinning, actually, but he's not so foolish to start speaking about kismet.

Chris nods. Good. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing," he says bluntly. "You're all I've thought of for the last few weeks, and I hope I'm not wrong in thinking you've felt the same way about me"

 _Wham!_ Henry feels like he's been smacked between the eyes, his heart thumping against his chest and pounding faster for a minute. "No, no you're not wrong," he murmurs. "Our timing sucks though, yeah?" he adds with a lopsided grin.

"Why's that?" Chris asks.

"Both of our careers are taking off by leaps and bounds--no pun intended. We'll be all over the place, in the public eye, there are already paparazzi everywhere. Not exactly ideal situations for booty calls," Henry says with a lopsided smile.

"No, I guess not," Chris says, "but no one needs to know what we're doing, and if we hadn't found out about each other, I assume we would've kept seeing each other as mates. I crashed at your place last week," he points out.

Henry turns that over, then nods. "You're right, of course. Only we need to know what's going on." That has him smiling bigger, throwing a leg over Chris's thighs and lifting up and over, straddling him. "What _is_ going to go on, do you think?" he murmurs, leaning over him, watching the dancing eyes and the ever-present smile with pleasure.

"We're going to keep seeing each other," Chris says, eyes tracing over the lines of Henry's face above him. "And you're going to stop seeing anyone else."

There's a moment's pause before Henry laughs softly. "That so? Even house doms?"

Chris nods. He's serious about this. "I don't want to share you with anyone else."

"And what about you?" Henry's smile has slipped away and he's feeling a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. This is happening fast.

Moving off of Chris, Henry resumes his cross-legged seat next to him. "Isn't this happening a little fast?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Chris says, sitting up too. "But I think it feels right, too. Neither of us has ever broken our code for anyone else. I figure it must mean there's something special here. Something that doesn't follow the rules."

He's right, of course, Henry knows. "I'm not really arguing," he finally says. "I'm okay with no seeing anyone else, I suppose, as long as you and I are sharing sex and kink. Kink is a part of me, though, and I can't imagine doing without it for too long at a stretch."

Chris grins. "I don't think you'll have any worries about that," he says. "The only reason we didn't get into anything heavier tonight was because I was too damn impatient."

Reaching out to trace Chris's smile, Henry ends with a tug to his beard. "I'll keep you to that promise. So . . . you'll be calling the shots? I'll be following along. You'll not be seeing anyone else either?" he tacks on at the end, acutely aware that that question hadn't been answered yet.

"I don't know," Chris says truthfully, finally, after thinking it through for a minute. "I've never tried being monogamous. I certainly won't be slutting around and if we're seeing each other on a regular basis, I'm not sure where I'd find the time, but I can't promise you'll be the only one. Only that you'll be the only one outside Citadel, outside staff. My code only broke for you."

Giving himself some time to think it over, to make sure he's truly okay with those conditions, Henry spends the quiet moments studying Chris's face with the tips of his fingers. The man is beautiful, inside and out, and Henry isn't going to miss out on finding out where they can go. "Compromise?" he finally says. "I've been sitting here trying to decide if I'd want to know you were going or had been. I think that's your call, whether or not you want me to know, but there's a small detail that would make me feel a little bit better. Never the same boy twice in a row, unless you have to for an integral part of a scene. I don't mind if you see the same boy, just not twice in a row." It's more cosmetic than anything else, but at least Henry feels like he's expressing himself.

Chris nods. He doesn't have any favourites, never has, never had anyone who so consumed his dreams until this, until Henry, the majority of his fantasies centred around nameless, faceless boys. "I promise," he says, crossing his heart. "No boy twice in a row."

"So . . . " Suddenly, all of Henry's worries cease to hold importance. "We're dating. And . . .you call the shots, basically. I don't know that I'd be very good at twenty-four seven third person jabbering or never answering back, just so you know. I've never tried, really, and the most fun I've had in sessions with house people have been casual."

Chris shakes his head. "I'm not much for formal," he says. "Occasionally, it's fun but it's not something I'd want from you for more than a scene every once in a while - if that." He smiles. "Tell me what you like," he says. "Are you more submissive or masochistic or equal parts both?"

"I'm probably more masochist, more kinky, than submissive if I had to quantify." He looks up through his lashes at Chris and shifts closer, reaching out to play a finger over his knee. "But I'm submissive. I like men who take charge. I like giving up control to a point. I'm not sure I'd ever be slave material or sign over my bank account to you, but I've always thought I'd like some rules and ritual in a relationship. It's just speculation, though, really. I don't have any experience with it."

"I'm sure we'll figure things out," Chris says, smiling at Henry. "I haven't really given any of this much thought. I'd never thought I'd be in a place where I needed to."

"I hoped. I hoped someday I'd be successful enough that I could take the chance," Henry admits. Leaning over and brushing his lips over Chris's, he basks in the warmth of him for a few moments. "God I love your lips," he whispers against his mouth.

"Thanks." Chris brushes them over Henry's. "I love yours." A beat passing before he adds, "Actually, I'm pretty crazy about all of you."  
"Is this when I confess to going to see 'Thor' twice over the last week because I feel the same way about you? That shirtless scene? Holy shite, mate," Henry breathes out, chuckling softly.

Chris laughs. "Does reality live up to the big screen?" he asks, kissing Henry again, his cock starting to stir once more.

"There is no way the big screen could _possibly_ live up--even hint at--the awesomeness and enormity of the reality," Henry answers before initiating the next kiss. Already he wants more, his body suggesting that he might even be able to deliver, soon.

"Good," Chris murmurs, stretching out and pulling Henry to lie on top of him again. He grins. "I can't believe this is happening," he says, sliding his hands down Henry's back to cup his ass, fingers delving between his cheeks, teasing over his hole.

Henry's not really used to being manhandled around; he's too big for that. Chris tugging him around like he's a sack of flour just makes him laugh. The laugh is cut short, though, when huge hands dwarf his, a gasp following the oh so intimate touch. Burying his face in Chris's throat, Henry groans.

"Grab me a packet of lube," Chris orders, pressing the pad of one finger against that tight pucker.

Henry's legs part easily, spreading to either side, one knee raised. He presses back against Chris's finger in invitation, even as he reaches for the lube in the bowl on the nightstand. "Want it open, sir?" he asks breathlessly.

Chris nods. "Yeah, go ahead," he says, pressing a little harder. 

Sucking in a hard breath, Henry pushes back some more. "Oh Christ, yes, please," he murmurs, fumbling to get the lube open as his body shivers with sensation.

Chris smiles, his cock throbbing between them, and holds up his other hand for the lube.

Laying the lube in Chris's hand, Henry tries not to anticipate too much. He's along for the ride, now, and already he trusts Chris to make that good. Still, he can't help but nudge against Chris with his head, trying to get closer somehow; to have more.

Slicking his fingers, Chris gets his mouth on Henry's, tongue delving between his lips, exploring eagerly. He slides those now-wet fingers over Henry's hole, circling it again and again before finally pushing one slowly inside him.

It's not new. Henry's had this done to him a thousand times if he's had it done once. But this is different. This is Chris. This is . . . for all intents and purposes . . . _his_ dominant. He gasps, sucking a breath from Chris as he flexes his muscles to release some of the overbearing tension. It works, and he lets him in with ease, the groan that transfers between their mouths so much more than just a sound of pleasure.

"That's it," Chris murmurs, between kisses. "Open up for me," he urges, pushing that finger in all the way, as deep as it'll go, before pumping it in and out a few times.

Chris's hands are _huge_ , and Henry can't help but chuff softly at the softly given edict. The kisses are going to his head, though, and his body _wants_ this, so he does as he's told, relaxing to his touch. "Chris . . . ." It's a quiet, heartfelt expression of gratitude.

"Yeah?" Chris licks at Henry's bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, hips rocking, grinding their cocks together as he keeps fucking Henry open with that one finger, giving his body time to adjust.

"You're turning me to mush," Henry explains with a smile, finding the rhythm that complements Chris's hips and his hands. "I'm not complaining, mind," he mutters into his mouth.

"That's good," Chris says with a soft laugh, "because I like you as mush." Slowly making room for a second finger, his cock leaking, smearing precome across their bellies.

Henry's breathing heavily now, both from the physical exertion and the mental calisthenics happening with each inch gained by Chris. His heart is pounding against his chest, demanding he pay attention, and the pulse resulting is hammering inside his cock.

Chris is killing him slowly. Henry? He's going willingly to the slaughter. And they haven't even gotten to the pain yet!

"God," Chris groans, pushing deeper, mouth going to Henry's throat. Licking and sucking and biting gently. Careful not to leave any marks. "You're so hot, so tight..."

You're so big," Henry counters, licking at his lips and pushing back, taking more. "Sweet Christ, sir . . . your _hands_." His head thrown back to give Chris more access, Henry surrenders completely.

Chris grins against Henry's throat, tongue flicking over his skin, a third finger added to the mix, twisting gently then a little harder into him.

It's more difficult to take, now, but no less welcome. Henry's brow furrows in concentration as he takes that third, his body stretching around Chris slowly, the burn a constant presence for a moment. Shifting to spread his legs wider, to press his ass back to welcome him, Henry shudders with the sudden rush of vulnerability that comes with the simple act of yielding.

Chris can just imagine what Henry will feel like around his cock, when they get there. How hot and tight and fuck, his cock throbs violently at the thought, spurting a little between them as his fingers push deeper, forcing Henry's body to open for him. "Feels good?"

"Godyes," Henry gasps as Chris demands more. "Fuckyes." Nuzzling hard into the taut, tanned expanse of Chris's chest, he lifts his ass higher still to prove he's more than on board. "Can I ask? Can I ask for more? Can I beg? Some . . . don't want, ohfuckplease . . ." Yeah, he's so reached babble-phase.

"I always want you to ask," Chris says, fucking Henry thoroughly with his fingers, the movements slick and easy. "Want you to beg. I might not give it to you but I always want to hear what you want."

"I want more," Henry pants, his hands moving all over Chris now, touching him wherever he can without getting in the way. Chris's words have him rebooting. 

Henry suddenly gets that all his training before this moment means nothing except in the abstract. It's about what _Chris_ wants, now, and about where they're going, together. "Please, fuck, please more."

Heels braced against the bed, Chris thrusts upwards, grinding his cock against Henry's, his fingers moving harder, faster inside him. "I'm not gonna fuck you," he whispers. "We're going to get tested and then we'll do it. Bare."

It takes a second for Chris's words to penetrate the sensual haze. And then? Then Henry's having the most intense orgasm of his life. Crying out, his body shaking almost violently, he comes apart in Chris's arms, cock jerking hard and shooting all over the both of them.

Chris follows Henry over, so turned on by the other man's reaction, by the way he cries out and his body clenches so tightly around Chris's fingers, he can't help himself. He comes hard, so hard, adding to the mess between them, his cock pulsing hotly again and again

Henry thought he was coming apart _before_. Feeling Chris shudder, fingers held so tightly in his body, has Henry shaking through what seems like a never-ending aftershock. The whimper that follows, the groan and pant and moan, finally give way to exhaustion and he collapses lightly, grateful for Chris' size and the certainty he can take Henry's weight.

Chris kisses Henry's shoulder. Brushes his lips over the warm smooth skin. His cock still throbbing between them. "That was incredible," he whispers, stunned by the intimacy as much as the passion.

Henry nods, his heart still pounding in his ears too loudly to actually speak. Incredible? He's not sure that's a strong enough word. Body shaking, a haze still clouding his mind, he shifts enough to the side to hold his own weight though most of his body still covers Chris. He's actually dipping into subspace.

This isn't some random man he's just paid to dom him. This is Chris.

"You okay?" Chris murmurs, concerned. Quiet is fine but he needs to make sure Henry's okay with this. That it's as good for him as it is for Chris.

A flood of warmth at the obvious concern has Henry smiling a little when he lifts his head. He imagines his eyes are a little pleasure-blown, but he can see the beautiful man in front of him just fine. "I'm good," he answers quietly. "Better than. I think I've tripped over a little piece of subspace, truth be told."

Chris grins. "That bodes well for us, doesn't it?" he murmurs.

Henry stretches, the action and the feeling it brings both luxurious. He nuzzles hard under Chris's chin and nods, a sound of agreement somewhere in the mix. "Very, very well."

"I'd suggest we try putting you deeper," Chris says, "but with camping tomorrow, that might be a really bad idea. How about next weekend?" He smiles. "Same time, same place?"

"I think I'd have quite a hangover," Henry agrees. "I can't believe how much this trip has suddenly changed." He's having trouble going beyond to next weekend. He's afraid he'll explode from the anticipation.

"No kidding," Chris says with a soft laugh. "Does this mean we get to zip our sleeping bags together?"

"I sure as hell hope so," Henry murmurs "It'll be a lot warmer that way. Gets cold in the mountains at night. Plus, you know, your body. Awesome." He tries to stop the yawn, but it breaks free anyway.

"Yeah," Chris nods, tugging the covers out from under him and over them both. He kisses the top of Henry's head. "Go to sleep. We'll talk about it more, later."

The kiss makes Henry smile a soft, mushy smile. "I can stay awake," he protests gently, and then adds quietly, his smile growing a bit, "not that I'm arguing with the boss"

"Good, because the boss," the word makes Chris chuckle, "needs his sleep too. So he can molest you some more."


End file.
